A Random Street in New York {Private Topic, So Yeah}

Damaris stepped out of her taxi after paying the driver. She sighed as she looked up into the familiar smoggy sky, reaching her hand into her pocket to pull out her pack of cigarettes. Damaris hadn't had a smoke in a week, nor had she had a drink or anything else that she normally had. It was driving her crazy, because she liked things that way. But then that stupid camp came in and messed everything up.

With a sigh, Damaris pulled her lighter out of her pocket and lit the cigarette, then placed it between her lips, taking a deep drag. It helped clear her mind a bit, but not that much. Not as much as...other things might, but it was the best she could get, so Damaris was fine with it.

Silently, Damaris walked through the massive crowds of people. She didn't care that she was bumping into people, Damaris felt like she was as close to home as possible. She was positive her apartment hadn't been knocked down or something, so she could crash there. It's not like that her absence would be noticed or something. There were so many other campers to look after that one measly missing camper wouldn't make any difference.

So Damaris decided she'd spend the night in the city, possibly 'working' so she could get something to help her survive at camp and money to drive back before she did get noticed, because who knows, someone might have been paying attention to the fact that he existed. She somewhat doubted it, though. Damaris went out of her way to go unnoticed.

Damaris had averted her gaze down to her feet, and she didn't notice that someone walking in the opposite direction was right in front of her until the bumped into eachother. "Hey, watch where you're f***ing going, b***!" she heard a high pitched voice, and Damaris looked up from where she had landed on the ground to see a girl with blonde hair in a high ponytail. She towered over Damaris, which could be because Damaris knocked over onto the pavement. That, or the fact that she was wearing ridiculous stilettos, but whatever.

"Sorry," Damaris muttered, thankful she had her cigarette in her mouth instead of in her hand, because she was sure that it would have fallen if she didn't have her lips pressed tightly around it. The girl scoffed and stalked off.

Luckily enough for Damaris, the people had half the mind to walk around her instead of over her, although a few people did step on her hands occasionally. With a sigh, she pulled herself up off the ground and started walking off in some aimless direction. Damaris actually preferred the view from the ground, but she couldn't sit there all day.

Damaris didn't really care where she ended up. She just wanted to get away from the stifling aura of camp, the feeling that she was being watched. Even though she knew that not many people had noticed her, seeing as she hardly interacted with anyone there.

The area started to become more and more familiar to Damaris as she got to areas of the city that she knew. Nothing had changed, but then again, it had only been a week since she left. It felt like longer to Damaris, probably because she wasn't used to living life the way she had to at camp.

Damaris stopped as she recognized one of the corners where she used to sit and sell magazines. It was one of her favourite places in the city, actually. It was right infront of a giant coloured glass window, but it was set in so the rest of the wall stuck out around it. It was an ideal place for when it was raining, because she could stand under the wall and stay dry there.

She stood in the shade of the building for a second, almost smiling - almost, but not quite - before she started walking again. Damaris had no idea where she was headed. Yeah, the area was looking really familiar now, and she knew she had to be close to her apartment, but she wasn't necessarily going there. Unless she was, in which case she wasn't going there on purpose. She was just going wherever her feet took her.

Damaris stopped when she saw a bench, then sat down, simply people watching. She was starting to realize she was walking towards her apartment, and she didn't really want to go there. Not yet, at least. Not until she figured out whether or not she was just going to the city for the day, or if she was actually staying. She was an adult by the law, anyways. She couldn't be forced to stay at camp if she didn't want to.

'Well, they probably could. What with all the weapons they have,' Damaris thinks, but she shrugs it off. She'd probably rather be dead than forced to stay at that camp without her...stuff. Yeah, stuff sounded like a better name for it than what it really was.

After looking around a bit, Damaris noticed a boy who she had seen quite a bit. She would be lying if she said she wasn't suspicious of him. There was just something...off about the boys appearance. It wasn't easily noticeable, but it was there in the way he walked. In the way he carried himself. Damaris had no idea just what it was, but she knew there was something different about him.

Damaris mildly takes notice of the boy she had seen from earlier sitting down on the bench, and holy sh** he has a cane. It wasn't exactly something Damaris was expecting. He looked about Damrais' age, and people Damaris' age typically don't have canes.

Despite her curiosity, Damaris rested her cheek on her hand and stared out into the traffic. She kind of liked sitting next to a complete stranger, because he knew absolutely nothing about her. He didn't know about how Damaris used to be Emily and he didn't know anything about Emily, nor did he about Damaris. It was pretty nice, actually. Really nice.

She liked the loud noise and the fact that there were so many people just moving around that they couldn't bring themselves to care about this pink-haired stranger. They didn't know about her problems, they didn't see a problem child. They just saw a regular teenager, possibly a bit of a rebel. She was nothing new to the city streets. They had seen Damaris' type before, the type who did a job that basically endangered her health just so she could fuel an addiction. And yeah, that wasn't exactly a good thing, but it was comforting to know that she was in a place she could just possibly call home. Because there was no way she was calling that stupid camp her home, not even her house.

Damaris simply raised an eyebrow at the boy, definitely not feeling like smiling, or waving, or doing any kind of formality. Formalities just weren't her thing.

Sighing, Damaris reached to where she normally kept her bag, but she realized she had left it at camp. "F***," she muttered. All of her stuff was at camp. The little bit of money she had left, her personal CD player, her CD's, her makeup, anything of importance to Damaris. Well, besides her cigarettes and her lighter. And not having her makeup could be a serious problem if she chose to try to get money that night, because she knew she wasn't the most attractive woman ever, which definitely wouldn't help.

Damaris looked around, tapping her foot on the pavement. She could always go back to her apartment and use the makeup she had left there. She had other clothes there, too, and a bed, and a computer. Although the computer was insanely slow, a computer was a computer, and she could check for news and other things. Get back in touch with the outside world. But there was still no one to get in touch with, no one to email or call or anything, really. Damaris supposed she should feel lonely, but she didn't. She was okay with not having anyone to talk to, so long as she could just manage to get by. It was a fair trade for her. She could get by living the way she did and she didn't have any nagging friends who constantly checked in on her, or any bothersome family.

Damaris heaved another sigh and dropped her cigarette onto the pavement. She stared up at the tall skyscrapers that made up New York City's skyline. Damaris had been inside of half of them. They were nowhere near as fancy on the inside as they looked on the outside. Most of them had broken lifts. There were rats living in the walls, water stains on the carpets, cracked windows, all sorts of things. It was pathetic, really. She had spent the beginnings of her life imagining living in one of those apartments, and then she spent the rest hating them because they were so f***ing deceiving. Making people think that there was something beautiful and extravagant inside of them, when, really, they were just as awful as the places that looked awful outside.

Damaris decided that if she were governor of New York, she'd tear down each and every one of those disgusting buildings, possibly even with the scum that lived there still inside.

From somewhere behind her, Damaris heard a low whistle. "Well, well, well," the voice said, and it sounded dangerously close to her ear. Low, gravely, obviously male. Probably a smoker, Damafris could recognize the sound of one anywhere. Not to mention the smell of cigarette smoke that clung to him, as it did with her. "What's a girl like you doing out here by herself? Don't you have a boyfriend or something?"

Most girls would probably find something like that flattering, but Damaris had had enough guys hit on her in her life to know not to show any signs of flattery to his attempt at flirting. It would only encourage him more, and, well, Damaris didn't want that. She didn't offer any...services during the day.

His voice much lower, the man said, "look, wh**e, i know what you do. my friend told me about you, and you're coming over to my place now."

damaris didn't miss the slightly threatening tone to the man's voice. still, she remained silent. she'd only speak if she had to, she had learned that much from dealing with people like him. if they keep threatening, punch them and run. damaris wondered if she had her can of pepper spray on her, but then she remembered that she had left her bag at camp. 'sh**,' she thought. she'd just have to hope for the best.

"I said now!" the man growled, his voice becoming slightly more threatening. He grabbed Damaris' arm, attempting to yank her off of the bench, but she pushed his hand off of her arm, refusing to move. She wasn't going anywhere with him. Later, sure. She needed the money. But now? Hades no. She couldn't imagine a single situation that would make her want to follow this man.